


Forget the Universe

by Delirious21



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Spark Sexual Interfacing (Transformers), Sparkbonding, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, first time(ish)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-25
Updated: 2020-01-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:20:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22396216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Delirious21/pseuds/Delirious21
Summary: Rare pair love for Fort Max and Magnus. Very emotional, and this is their first time properly interfacing. It is part of my much longer fic, now finished. But I recognize that sometimes all you want is smut, and who am I to keep that from anyone?Link to full fic: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20420363/chapters/48442490
Relationships: Ultra Magnus/Fortress Maximus
Kudos: 23





	Forget the Universe

**Author's Note:**

> If you plan on reading the full fic, I'd advise you do that before reading this, because plot and if you're interested in seeing how their relationship progresses to this point.

Waking in Fortress Maximus’ arms never felt so good. To feel his warmth, hear his spark, to know, for certain, that they were both alive and together. Perhaps that was the most important part. Together. And when Max stirred, optics blinking online, those glorious reds met his foggy morning blues and with something akin to relief, he smiled. Magnus smiled back as he rolled over, flopping an arm over Max’s middle. Face to face, only inches from each other, there was nothing left to hide. 

“I love you,” Max whispered. 

A servo caressed the side of Magnus’ helm and he nuzzled into the touch. 

“But do you trust me?” Max squinted, searching his partner’s optics. “When I say I’m okay now, do you trust me?”

“This is trust,” Magnus said. “I trust you to take care of yourself. I trust you to call me when you need help, when you’re hurting. I trust that you mean it when you say you love me.”

Max’s engine let out a pleased little rumble. They kissed, not new, but always invigorating. Magnus opened his mouth against the warm, curious slide of a glossa against his lips. There was no fight for dominance, no haste in the way they ravaged each other. A slow, burning, nipping passion, this thing, this  _ love _ , fueled their slow, intense collision. Mumbles and warnings were shared when fans inevitably turned on, adding a stroke of white noise to their blue painting. Servos searched for all the best, most sensitive spots to tease, and there was no need to speak, their energy fields overlapping and flooding each with burning need spawned from mutual understanding, mutual  _ love _ . 

It wasn’t long before they were both panting, straining against their panels, overheating and impatient, but endlessly patient. Max, now straddling Magnus, pampered him with sloppy kisses and, in return, Magnus lavished the other’s treads and helm fins. Ultra Magnus, beneath the bulk that was Max, caressed and kissed and showered praises on his partner. He ignored the throb in his valve, the press of his spike against confining, sticky panels. He didn’t care if the night only led to recharging, curled together; his needs didn’t matter, all he wanted was Max next to him. He desperately longed to run his servos over those immense, broad shoulders, to rest his helm against his chassis and listen to the lull of a healthy, powerful spark. 

Magnus, urged on by the pleasant ache in his spark, took one of Max’s servos in his and smiled. “You are an amazing mech, Maximus,” he purred. 

Max turned to hide the flush of his cheeks. “Coming from you,” he muttered. “It means so much more.” He settled more of his weight onto Magnus, knee between his thighs, parting them as he moved. 

Magnus fought his cooling fans, knowing too well that anything sudden could be triggering. Rather, he lifted Max’s servos to his lips and kissed each knuckle, a light touch, but the mech shivered all the less. 

“Why are you so gentle,” Max moaned, optics lethargic. “It makes me. . . makes me want you.” He pressed closer, pelvis grinding against pelvis, and Magnus was relieved to find that Max was burning up. 

He wrapped both his servos around one of Max’s, guiding it to his chassis, resting it directly above his spark. Looking up with honest blue optics, he husked, “Yours.”

Max took Magnus’ servos and pressed them to his heaving chassis. “Yours,” he echoed. “Always yours.” He leaned down and captured the other’s lips, glossas tracing intakes as servos searched for hidden wires under armor. Magnus panted, losing himself in Max’s gentle proddings, but his servos balled by his sides. 

“Don’t hold back,” Max huffed, kissing a sloppy mess on Magnus’ neck. One servo trailed down his side, rubbing careful circles. “Touch me.” 

The words came out more a growl than anything else, and although it startled Max, it sent shivers down Magnus’ spine. He hushed Max’s blubbering apology with a kiss, nibbling on his bottom lip until he reciprocated. The distinct click of panels opening made them both freeze. Half out of his mind in content and budding pleasure, Magnus glanced between his legs to check that it wasn’t him. 

Max leaned back on his thighs, one servo automatically covering his spike. “I’m sorry, I—”

“Fortress Maximus,” Magnus groaned, consciously spreading his legs further. “Come here. Please.” Max hesitated, so he rubbed a servo over his closed panel. “I want you to have all of me, Max.”

The wondrous mech inched back in, serovs closing on slick red thighs. His thumb teased the joints between Magnus’ hips and pelvis, and he moaned in response. Thick blue digits traced a growing trail of lubricant from his aft to his valve cover. 

“Please, open.”

Magnus obeyed immediately, letting out a content sigh as the transfluid building in his valve spilled out and his spike sprang free. Max ran a digit through the mess, humming when he brought it to his intake. Magnus’ thighs clenched together as he watched Max clean the fluids from his digit. His optics had dimmed, the red now a low-lit comfort and an indicator that Max was enjoying himself, if his twitching spike and lopsided grin weren’t enough to go off of. 

“Max,” Magnus gasped, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from whining. “I need you. In —ah— inside me.”

The other mech’s fans kicked up a notch. “Yes, sir.” 

One digit was fine, something for his valve to grip, but it wasn’t enough. Magnus arched his hips against the second, reveling in the fact that two digits was the size of an above-average mech’s spike. He keened, but Max eased him onto a third, flexing and curling, pressing against the sensitive metal mesh as he massaged his anterior node with his thumb. 

“Does that feel good?” Max asked, optics fixed on Magnus. 

“Y-yes. Please, move.” Magnus’ helm thunked against the berth when Max spread his digits, a fresh gush of transfluid leaking out around them. 

He chuckled. “You’re making a hell of a mess, Magnus.”

“It’s proof of —nng— of how good you make me feel,” Ultra Magnus gasped, circling his hips and trying to take more, frame impatient with Max’s ever careful touches. “I-I am ready for you!”

Max slowly removed his digits, engine revving at the obscene noises and the mess it made. Magnus couldn’t hold back the whine then, the whine of an empty valve, of vulnerability. His processor was fraying and he was so frustratingly close to an overload, both spike and valve screaming for attention, but all he could do was smile and wrap his arms around Max’s neck as he helped him into his lap and propped his back against the wall. 

“Are you ready?” 

Magnus nodded fervently. Max’s surprisingly steady servos held him still as he pushed up, tip of his enormous spike catching on the valve rim. They both gasped when it popped free and slid home. Magnus clung to Max like he would never let go, legs shaking already, valve stretched and filled to its limits, ceiling node smushed and spike scraping Max’s stomach. He’d never felt so infinitely full, stuffed with his unabating passion and endless affection for Max, overwhelmed with the need to give this mech his everything, his body, his spark, his soul, his life. Every emotion he’d struggled to put into words on the tip of his glossa: It was too much to keep inside.

Shamelessly nuzzling his helm into the crook of Max’s neck, he blurted, “I love you!”

Max trembled, hips bucking on their own accord. “Y-you what?” 

Magnus pulled back just enough to press his forehelm to Max’s, desperately rebooting his vocalizer. “I love you, Fortress Maxim —ah!” The heat coiling in his tanks unraveled violently, overload shaking his frame and forcing a cry out of him. His valve clenched desperately as his servos did the same to Max’s face, pulling him in for a static-laced kiss. 

Max shivered under him but remained maddeningly still, optics fiery and questioning. “Did that make you. . .Ultra Magnus, nng—”

“I love you, Max,” Magnus panted, grinding down. “I love you.” He kissed everything he could reach: jaw, helm fins, chassis crest, neck, shoulders. “Love,” he moaned, “everything —ah— you are.” His back arched when Max finally thrust and he practically sobbed, “So perfect, so good to me, gracious and —nng— kind, protective and careful, oh so careful. I love you!”

Max buried his face in Magnus’ neck, and he thought there was something wet running down his shoulder, but the earth shattering thrusts he were taking distracted him. Max’s servos never stopped moving, touching more than Magnus was kissing; comforting, rubbing, kneading. 

Ultra Magnus lost his words soon after, and it was all he could do to hold on, to offer himself wholly to Maximus. Nodes he didn’t even know he had were lit on fire, and the mess between them was so obscene but so gorgeous. Shades of pink swirling, all them. Only them. 

Max’s thrusts intensified, but still he hid his face, making only muffled grunting noises and the occasional engine revv. Magnus kissed his helm fin, gasping and moaning right into his audial. He managed to choke out a weak “Max” and the response was desperate, needy kisses on his jaw and more sporadic, eager thrusts. 

“Magnus!” The whine was all the warning he got before Max seated himself, head of his spike grinding incessantly at his ceiling node, and overloaded. It was extraordinary, hips jerking and engine roaring, but Max’s servos were still so careful, cupping his face and locking optics as he filled him. 

Ultra Magnus’ body succumbed to Max’s intensity, throwing him over into a second overload, valve feebly clenching on the throbbing spike gushing transfluid inside him. Magnus moaned from the aftershocks, petting Max’s side as he continued to overload. He wondered just how much transfluid there was as his plating started to distend and a new sensation, a shifting in his valve, speared him on yet another overload. Liquid heat flooded Magnus, higher than his valve, and as his gestation chamber filled, he collapsed, swathed in bliss and exhaustion. 

Maximus, tanks empty, did the same, nuzzling into Magnus’ chassis, servos curling protectively around him as he stayed seated. “I love you, Ultra Magnus,” he hummed. “I don’t have the words for it like you do, but you are all I have, all I need. I,” he emphasized the word with a tender kiss on the lips. “Love.” On his optics. “You.” On Magnus’ spark. 

It was as if a switch had been flipped, and the armor encasing Magnus’ spark began to shift aside, folding away to reveal the very core of his being. The vibrant, swirling blue cast a faint glow over Max, and he moaned at the sight. Magnus’ spark reached outward, tendrils brushing Max’s chassis, urging him to open, and the sensation made his valve ripple, drawing a low groan from Max. 

Max lifted a servo to tease the edges of his spark, making him arche and gasp desperately. “Do you remember what I said about going home?” he asked, optics lighting hot.

Magnus keened against him, uncertain about the feeling of fluids in his gestation chamber, but oh so pleased that it was all from Fortress Maximus. A mark of claim, but without the aggression. He nodded feebly, working up another charge the longer Max played with his spark. Vaguely, he remembered being confused, because what was home? 

Max pressed a chaste kiss to his forehelm and moved his hips in short bursts, talking over Magnus’ next overload. “Home is with you, always making sure I’m safe, always listening and patient. This room is our home, this place that smells like you and me, our paint chips on the walls, the berth big enough for both of us, our books on the same shelf.” He thrust slower, working off the last bit of charge in Magnus’ system. “You are my home, Ultra Magnus,” he said. 

“I love you,” he rasped. “Take my spark, please! I —ah— want you and  _ only  _ you to have it, Maximus.”

In that moment, there was no world, no universe beyond those four walls. Their humble room was a capsule for all they felt, all they cherished, and they drowned in it, mouths gaping, servos kneading as they merged, feeling a fire they’d never known, one they never wanted to forget. Pure bliss, unadulterated devotion and adoration, all poured into one segment of time until everything was blurred into one being, one connected soul, never broken but now whole; mended and repaired. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! ;)


End file.
